Little Deaths
by Greyella
Summary: Hermione finds hated solace in the Library. Bellatrix/Hermione.


**Disclaimer: **Use of expletives, strong sexual content, adult themes, femslash**  
**

**Author's Note I: **This is in response to a challenge prompt from Another Girl Grasping. The challenge parameters were as such: write a PWP with as little plot as possible (because AGG knows _just_ how much I love plot), the pairing = author's choice - Bellatrix/Hermione. Eh, soooo there is_ some_ plot, but _less_ than my usual twists and turns.

(Note...this is not a continuation of, or in anyway shape or form related to _Rebirth_; but hopefully those of you who wished me to write more Bella/Hermione will be pleased with this. Enjoy the lemon.)

Dedicated with fondness to Another Girl Grasping...and to our friendly greys.

* * *

They hurt sharply, the book corners that harshly daggered into her back. Even through school clothes the pain was unforgiving, and desired. And yet, it compared nothing to the maelstrom that tumbled inside her gut. It was late, far past curfew. The room was murky except for the unclouded moon that shot through the pane glass windows. It made ghosts of the books within, and a darkened silhouette of the girl writhing against them.

Prefect status seemed to have its advantages, but none more accommodating than the ability for rule-breaking to be overlooked. McGonagall's clear bias didn't hurt either. Madame Pince had looked the other way upon shutting-up the library for the eve, leaving the researching Gryffindor within…alone, with her mountainous books strewn across a teak table. And so, Hermione Granger had remained in the Hogwarts library and ventured research into a rather taboo subject: her own anatomy.

Desperate fingers, delved beneath a pleated skirt, inside knickers, finding the secret folds coated in slick wetness. Her body trembled as Hermione wrought herself aroused, delirious, and desperately wanting. Uninhibited tears chased down proud cheeks and gathered at her clavicle; a sad shimmering pool…vulnerability exposed to the rising moon. She sought escape from the responsible world; the looming war crushed heavily, burying her mind in an imposing avalanche. This was her pressing back, digging out pitifully. An insignificant whimper let loose as furious circles prompted her limbs weak, the bookshelf her only support. One might have suspected that she would feel raw, a King-of-the-World…hyper-aroused at her rule breaking gall. They would have sincerely supposed wrong. She only felt unguided; Hermione was miniscule…isolated, and utterly malformed with frustration.

She numbed; nothing seemed to penetrate the wall. Fingertips furiously worked her glossy clit and mouth into singing gasps. But each time, just before the crest, the partition would come into view. She would fling full speed ahead, only to crash into the barricade and fall flat…again. Terrible cycles fed her nothing for the longest time. Hermione against the books was unable to summit and unable to seal the gaping hole inside; it terrorized her lost and maimed. Something unnamed, inside, bent and twisted precariously. She was unnamed, she was nonentity. An irreparable break threatened, and Hermione teetered on a strange border of madness. A despairing cry wrenched out her mouth into the still apathy of the night, as orgasm remained denied and eluding.

* * *

Her Disillusionment charm was particularly strong; Rod would have pissed himself dank to know she had hazarded into Hogwarts during the sun's daylight. Not that she gave two flying fucks about what the foolhardy man thought.

Her intention had not been sentimentality; she had only designed to gain access to the rare book that the mind craved. Gaining admittance to the school had been a cackling and easy feat; wards had nothing on her prowess. A sinister smirk followed this egotistical notion. But she'd keep her secret; it was far more fun to let Draco mend those ridiculous cabinets anyway…t'would make for a better story, and the better murder.

The rare book in question had been easy enough to unearth and nick. The witch had angled to leave, really she _had_. But a mind sidetracked upon the discovery of a particular yearbook, dusty with age…yellowed from lack of use. Despite the ruling self-disgust, still, hands pawed at the faded class photos for several candlemarks. Several hours later, and thoroughly revolted with herself, Bellatrix had unceremoniously re-shelved moronic memories back where they belonged, forever forgotten and bunged tight.

By now, the glowing butterball had long ago set into a rather disturbingly pleasant mashed potato sunset. Satisfied, the stolen book in hand, she made out of the stacks, twisting through the bowels of wretched Pince's domain. That woman had been a right harpy terror in her own schooldays. The raven made to leave.

A distinct cry flew to trained ears and Bellatrix froze in disbelief at the familiar sound that played kin. It was utter isolation, agony of the animal denied. It spoke to the soul and summoned. The dark witch did not question as she let her Disillusionment fall away. Creeping swiftly, she followed the keening path to the open foyer. Against a lucky shelf, Bellatrix found the strangest (and yet most provocative) scene involving books.

It was a woman, young and barely. The girl's hand hid in the dim, but ministrations beneath a schoolgirl skirt, desperately working, were not in dispute. The young body adhered to the bookshelf, arching against terrible tombs in…Bella squinted, in a clear misery it seemed. That had perfect eyebrows in raised paradox. The mind had no time to be amused, or even sinister. The moonlight shifted from behind an occluding cloud, revealing a tearstained face, beautiful, silently sobbing in time with fervent strokes. The mind then stilled as recognition set in. She _knew_ this girl; Potter's mudblood…Hermione, they called her.

'_Brainy little bitch that one…'_

The Battle of the Department of Mysteries was not long enough ago to expunge the recollection of untamed hair and intense eyes that burned amber. The mere slip of a witch had crystallized out from the rest. The girl's magic was unkemptly powerful with the sting of youth still hearty upon its cast. Hermione Granger was the unexpected diamond the Dark Lord knew not; Bella was far too aware that this truth was the brains of their foe. All this was blatant, all this was salient. But more so for the best lieutenant, it had been the haunting eyes, the haunted eyes that observed too much. It was rare when life prompted Bellatrix intrigued, and she did not forget the moments that did. For months afterwards, the tawny orbs had followed uncomfortably into her dreams of macabre, never speaking, simply being.

Oddly transfixed and hidden by dancing shadows, Bellatrix stole the girl's solitude and played voyeur to her failure. She should have been cruelly amused at the mudblood's inability to offer bodily comfort unto herself. But instead, the young witch's desperation snagged upon some scintilla splinter in Bella's fractured core. And there was no denying the girl's tortured youth, pulchritude…her wanton obscurity in the night. And Bella could very well appreciate such things. So she did, silently in the sable, as moonlight dissembled once again.

Bellatrix was hard pressed to remain emotionless, even if malevolent in nature. The wretch was…lovely in her distress; temptation that touched herself brazenly against the books. Bellatrix thought that she would quite like to fuck the girl senseless and hurt; bones hummed with anticipation at this new dirty.

At one point, Hermione became breathless and the bookcase jounced at her fast pacing fingers. Bellatrix looked on with some amount of curiosity as the peak never came, and the woman bucking against the shelf defeated, crumpling against the miscarried hand, that still moved...mockingly. It was the sordid siren's voice that set squalid events into motion.

"P-ple-please…why?..." The broken utterance busted the room open, splitting melons. It bent exhaustion and pure need toward break; Hermione drowned above water…parched in the rain.

Bellatrix savored the scurvy symphony in her eardrums and fumed plumes of ire. She did not condone this particular opponent's demise, not _before_ this war to come. No, if anyone was a worthy adversary it was this one. The muddy witch infuriated Bella, with her dirty blood and pure-mind tangle…and that tempting body rocking the shelf, calling for destruction. Gods-be-damned if she would be denied the proper demolition of such a unique soul. No, the girl must persevere until the ripe time; then and only would she smash the fruit. This Bellatrix resolved.

The moonlight slung-shot through windows again in an endless flight. By chance in the sheen, Hermione's despondent eyes accidentally found an intrusion; Bella's silhouette. Their eyes connected, golds wide with austere surprise. Bellatrix watched incredulously (and satisfactorily) as the hand never faltered; into the eyes Hermione arched suddenly, quaking with undetermined multifaceted emotion, and murmured,

"B-bellatrix…"

Bella was a creature of action, not contemplation; there was no pondering. They were enemies on opposite sides of a forever war; eternally locked in combat. But as the second split, they were not. They were in a library and it was enough. A black dress ate the night in motion and she neared the writhing form, pupils empty and baleful.

Upon her approach, Hermione's breath bounced erratically in echoes. Inked curls entered her vision, dark eyes glinted lust in the morphing moonlight. The pouring moan out her mouth could not be staunched. It watered the night, as steady hands crept up neck…her face, caressing with firm dark. Magic laden with electrical pulse swarmed between, around them. Sparks flew from fingertips and shining ambers held fast upon raven hair and ruby lips.

"Well, well well…what _have_ we here, a wanton _mudfest_? All worked up and failing forever. If it isn't Mudblood Granger, infamous know-it-all. And yet, it seems you don't excel at..._everything_."

Bellatrix reveled in the delayed sneer that crossed that tragic face; nothing was more beautiful than a raging woman in her pleasure.

"You dare casts slurs at me when it's you who's dirt? You're abhorrent and vile!" Hermione spat vindictively, even as Bella's hands wandered down her torso, grazing her sides in an almost tenderness. Almost.

Bellatrix's expression never shifted muscle, though danger welled full in heightened eyes. The witch snuffed at the air and knowingly chuckled at the brat's hypocrisy. Suddenly, she gripped slim hips that still rolled against a tiring hand. To the girl's ear she leaned close, sarcastic whispers ventured,

"Yes, and yet you capitulate easily. Oh, yes muddy thing, I can truly gather just how much you _despise_ me, filthy bitch. Such a hypocritical matter at…_hand_. If your soaking fingers are any indication at all, then you must really put all your hate to me; after all, I can smell your…_hate_ from here…"

The last bit scalded facetious brands upon Hermione, innuendo turning skin red.

Bellatrix felt the hips underhand jerk at the pointed words. She smiled wickedly; oh, this would be interesting; this would be most entertaining indeed. Lips left the ear as they motivated toward a straining neck; she let them graze upon the tapping pulse-point before suckling there firmly.

A quiet moan.

It was with some surprise as a small hand tangled fiercely in Bella's hair, gripping her proud curls frantically, coupling with the quiet damnation,

"Demon…you sleep in the Devil's bed…" Despite her spewing and hated gasps, Hermione grappled at the dark woman, pulling her closer yet, hands splaying on pale skin exposed.

Bellatrix regarded the mudblood seriously, eyes raising somewhat amused at the insinuation. The chit had major cajones, Bellatrix would give her that. Still…the library remained neutral ground. Therefore no _Crucio _spat out her wand to avenge such barefaced disrespect of her Lord.

"Perhaps…but I'd like to think that I'm more than simple minion. And just what exactly…does that make you, hmmmm? The Golden Girl who seeks out demons?"

Hermione knew silver spoons ate her brain mad; through a Gryffindor sweater adroit fingers sought a nipple. The dark witch enjoyed defiling by erecting its hard peak and eliciting strained moans.

"It m-makes me…y-you make me damned…l've lost. I'm lost…" the girl mewed as skilled digits pulled languidly at her breast.

Bellatrix growled at the witch's responsiveness, at the body in hand now her putty to construct with. Hermione arched into the dark touch, into the abyss. Rubies shone at her ear and she heard the ocean swell its tide,

"Wrong. You're found."

Crashing, a mouth traced veins along the fallen swan's neck.

Hermione was thoughtless, her only possession sensation. It was no back burner, no rumor; it demanded her full attention and heated coils. This was everything. This was firelight desecrating…burning books. She touched crackling flames and painted embers upon herself, pleading…

"T-touch me, I c-can't bear this…p-please just help this…"

The entreaty shouldn't have bullseyed Bella's small heart, it really shouldn't have. But it did. Turgid, the mouth left the elegant neck and wild black met amber in the unspoken. Bellatrix's hand splayed across Hermione's cheek; her mouth neared parted lips. Mouths met slowly, ruby enjoying the furious shakes. Bella's hand slipped under pleats to meet the dancing hand. Skin touched, knuckles grazed her palm. She stilled the hand immediately. Into her lips the girl moaned, bereft…wanting; Bella took advantage of the opened mouth and thrust in taking, exploring the depths that awaited. The girl was inexperienced; she felt the curious and slightly terrified lips. But Bella also found uninhibited passion that awaited the lover who knew how to elicit. She elicited. The dark mouth consumed. That tongue- twisting and battling. Compelling lips, giving way to teeth, nibbling Hermione unconstrained. Bellatrix bit a bottom lip, sucked at it until the moan tore out from Hermione's depths. Her free hand strolled behind Hermione's back, and dark curls laughed maniacally at the eager arching that pressed them together…

"Look at you, aurous girl, so willing to betray your light. And all for a tryst with the sinister likes of me? Tell me then, muddy, tell me how badly you need this…and fall from your grace…" Into their kiss, Bella mocked and demanded.

Hermione whimpered brokenly; words made this exchange too real. Bellatrix was ever so authentic, and perfectly savage. The hand refused to let her own move; it was as death, perfectly still and mournful. Oh sides didn't matter now, she craved this war…craved Bellatrix.

"S-stop demonizing, I'll not be your crime. Leave. Or t-take me. But do it already!" Amber flashed lightening. Hermione had found fury.

'_Ah…is that an attempt at pride, lioness? How I hate Gryffindors.'_

But the hot mouth attacked again with zeal before cackling,

"Oh I will, mudblood cunt, when I'm damn good and ready. But you didn't listen; tell me or I leave now. Leave you to suffer hot and wanting…to your numb self. And to your incompetent hand." Bellatrix pulled away easily, she wasn't one to be ruled.

In the dark Bellatrix found anguished and crazed eyes; they appeared to be an oscillating light, flickering amongst greys. Taunting, Bella pushed their hands into Hermione's core. The surrender approached. The girl bit her lip…animalistic desire…repression. But pride found itself sinking in lieu of need. Hermione caved.

"Then be my downfall, so long as you make me feel. A-anything…make me feel a-anything…" Hermione begged shamelessly, somewhat disgusted with her capitulation to this…this monster, this wicked witch.

At her surrendering words, Bellatrix smirked dimly.

"Don't you worry your mud-ridden brains, I'll be ecstatic to push you to your demise."

Circles began, their hands light over heated flesh. Hermione hissed and whimpered; her body petitioning more contact…contact that Bella steadfastly denied. Suddenly, Bellatrix flung the witch forward and positioned a stance behind, letting Hermione fall into her steadfast body, golds arched and writhing. It was a most provocative position, Bella's arm wrapping dangerously over that shapely hip, their bodies smothering spare centimeters. Hands circled, ruching the skirt around thighs, maneuvering their damned hands together against the girl's clit.

"Perhaps I'll push you, but nothing is free; you have to fall first, get off to the beat of your own hand…" Bellatrix whispered heatedly into the girl's hair.

Hermione cried out at the injustice and the shame of the self-battle to which this dark entity had clearly paid gleeful witness.

"C-can't…tried…c-can't…" Against the taller witch she sagged and frustratingly mumbled in desolation.

A surprising, a rather tender, hand smoothed back Hermione's sweaty curls, "Yes, you can, feel my hand against yours…cross that line…"

Hermione did. It was excruciating, the dark witch so near and far. It was tantalizing legato as Bella directed their hands over her body, conducting their atrocious orchestra. Bellatrix found rare tenderness at the vulnerable girl, in sunken glory, and wanted to push her past this obstructing hurtle. She moved them slowly at first, relishing the trembling body against her corseted torso. It was a powerful magic to make another ache like this. Bella licked her lips, savoring the power trip she wielded expertly.

Hermione tilted her head, needing to see that hellish face which broke her perfectly. Dark and unfathomable eyes gazed down at her. Her other hand reached up to stroke the distinct aristocratic and angular face. Daringly, Hermione pulled the dark witch to her mouth, and quavered against the lips, her breathing irregular with their dancing hands.

"Y-yes…oh, B-bella…" Cheeks flushed, blushed rose, as she began to meet their joined hands, hips rolling languidly with every stroke.

Bellatrix marveled. This…well, it disturbed her somewhat. Somehow she had become a lover instead of fucker. For now. Still, with the girl she immersed, and sought that mouth eagerly, savoring her name rocked from swollen lips. It was a lusty embrace, wrong and raw. She increased their pace, wanted to see the woman undone by her own hand. Unintentionally, Hermione's bucking hips began to grind into Bellatrix. Taken aback, Bellatrix moaned throatily against the gyration.

They were a sensual picture. Pressed together up against the bookshelf, their hands stroking underneath a rumbled skirt, hips grinding together in a swaying salsa.

Bellatrix ferociously moved in impulsive patterns, drawing a masterpiece with Hermione's small hand as pen. Hitched breath crescendoed in the night, and Bella knew that the fracture would come soon. And it did. A sudden stiffening…hips straining against the touch, a flood of wetness that Hermione's hand couldn't dam. And then an arched back…brown eyes locked with black, and the hoarse whisper,

"B-belllatrix….c-coming…I'm-"

Hermione yelled incoherently into Bella's capturing mouth as she peaked fast…hard. Bellatrix forced the girl to make the most of pulsing aftershocks, and refused to still their hands. She wrung out every small orgasm there was to find; the girl shuddered against her and sought out Bella's mouth for survival. Eventually Bellatrix did quiet them; they remained embraced against the bookcase, hands against the throbs. Hermione's hand fell away from her core and disbelieving she brought up her glistening hand.

Bellatrix's eyes flashed in the dark. Trembling, Hermione offered her hand to the maven. Never breaking eye contact, Bella commenced her feast…moaning slightly at the musky and sweet taste of the girl. It was with some interest that she observed Hermione's stunned expression. Gripping the slender wrist, without hesitation Bella dipped them back underneath the girl's skirt, into Hermione's flood.

"Taste yourself…" Bellatrix commanded, knowing that the girl never had dared such a thing.

Hermione reddened and hid her face against Bella's chest, clearly embarrassed. Ironic, Bella thought it. T'was amusing that anyone could find her the better alternative to a little embarrassment. But no…this needed to be done right, and apparently it was up to her to do so.

"Look to me…" The girl shook her head, into Bella's breasts. It wasn't meant as sexual, but Bella had to bite back the moan as through her dress more innocent lips grazed her pert nipple. Alternative tactic then…

"Hermione…"

Surprised at her name escaping those ruddy lips, wide-eyed, the girl stared at her. Bella ignored the twang that plucked her strings; the incredulous and wondrous look elicited notes from her shale heart. Slowly…deliberately, Bellatrix brought Hermione's hand to a carnivorous maw. Again, she dabbled her tongue over the shimmers of arousal and culmination. Warning was absent as she pulled the girl into a kiss. She wasn't disappointed at the curious and aroused whimper that vibrated her jawbones, as the salty taste mingled sweet on their tongues. They broke apart.

Shyly, Hermione questioned, "Is that…"

Bellatrix growled, "Yes…that is most assuredly you, sweet and filthy."

Her hands begin to wander, already wanting to take the girl again. She let desire out free and invaded Hermione's apex once again. The girl jerked against her as strong fingers bathed inner thighs, raking nails over the pretty flesh. A most delicious keen from the girl; it spoke of impatience and…burgeoning requirements.

"…y-you…" Hermione was a puddle, dripping and limbless.

The first graze over her clit was exquisitely intense. Hermione cried out in abundant pleasure and gripped at Bella's neck, alarmed…reaching for the woman's dominance…

"Hush, little muddy…it's all right..." Any other time and Bellatrix would have cast the killing curse upon herself to hear such odd tenderness fall out the mouth. But in the here and now of their bookshelf, it fit right.

Softly at first, dark Bella circled with two fingers, groaning at the hard and wet clit that her fingers prized. Slipping over the bud hard and fast, Bellatrix was anything but gentle. She pinched down slightly, and cackled at the rewarding howl the girl released too close to her ear.

"Look at you…defiled, tell me, how shall I tear you apart? Until there's nothing left?…"

Dishevelment had slipped the sweater off an exquisite shoulder. Bella made use, and sunk teeth into flesh, bruising the pristine. Canines indented flesh and hummed.

"Y-yes...un-tt-til I'm only remains…" Hermione was molten. She burned and swam for the explosion.

Bella wanted that exquisite break. Her free hand was harsh in finger and abruptly caged the girl's throat unforgivingly. Hermione was a conundrum; struggling instinctively against the hand that choked and thrusting against the hand that wrote. Her trachea narrowed and she soared.

"Struggle…you know I like it." And Bellatrix did. It was perfect dichotomy. Pleasure and pain rolling the mudblood open and bare.

Hermione saw spots flying, the hands hurt her well, sour and saccharine. But they were Bella's hands…and still it wasn't enough for the girl; darker ambition pulled. But then that hand continuously found her soaking secrets and prompted a high-rise. Graveled, Hermione moaned as sharpened nails caressed the hollow of her throat dauntingly. She rode the wretched and slick hand over and back, an avid grinder. The library was silent except for Hermione's involuntary vocal cords that sang to the voyeur moonshine. Seduction played threesome with them as the curve of Bella's breasts pressed into her back.

Wandlessly, Bella magically divested the witch of her sweater…her bra. True to her kinky self, Bellatrix preferred the girl's skirt on. Playing along, a blackened corset unlaced itself. Pebbling nipples suddenly grazed Hermione's bare back; and she bit her lip nearly to blood. Friction was rough…unbearable. Somewhat breathy, Bellatrix was a whisper in the ear,

"Let's see how high you can fly, die for me a little, muddy-mine; just a little death…_Crucio_…"

The curse struck her rising summit and toppled Hermione over the edge in a screaming and agonizing liberation; the hand around her throat never strayed…playing her as dark fiddle.

"B-belllla, hurts…yessss o-ohhh…"

She grappled at the dark witch, hands in need of liquid solidity amongst flames. Her releasing tension shook them both, and in the deepest recesses of her mind Hermione noted that Bellatrix spilled a throaty moan out as her curse held fast, holding tight to Hermione's thrashing body. But she was lost to the thrilling pain and the hand throbbing her clit, milking its worth.

Tears of exhilaration leaked out Hermione's eyes and her head lolled back onto Bella's shoulder. Teeth nipped at her jawbone and she cried out, over sensitized. But they were far from over. Bellatrix didn't entertain patience, didn't inquire. Simply pushed her dripping hand through folds and probed Hermione's core, two fingers inside barely. She surprised at the virgin resistance, but any decision was stolen from her as the younger witch threw a fit of determination. Bella's wrist was grasped and two long fingers shoved deep within, breaking innocence. From the sudden invasion, Hermione wailed and sunk against bared breasts. But the sharp pain soon gave way to blessed and crucified wholeness. Hermione was thoughtless, save for that hand that pumped satisfaction within.

Bellatrix unnerved at such a gift. But soon supple lips moaning and firm hips thrusting down and up and down took precedence.

"Stupid girl…" Bellatrix didn't appreciate the feelings that seemed to creep up her soul in thorns.

She angered. How dare this slip of a woman make her the first. No…Bellatrix was not anyone's first, shouldn't be anyone's first. If anything, Bellatrix was their last. A cruel smile twisted, she would be forever.

They changed; Bella was shifting wind. She flew out from behind, rotating her hand, and thrust the girl by the throat, into pointed book corners once again. Bellatrix moaned, surprising Hermione.

Amber eagerly bathed the dark woman, with corseted breasts half exposed to learning eyes. Perfect nipples sought the air, hardened and dusty rose, so unlike her pale ballet shoe pinks. Hermione's fingertips ached to touch, but Bella's ministrations seemed to break all mobility. The hand upon her throat released, and a break of fresh air filled her lungs as Bella prompted her leg to wind about a skirted waist. Hermione trembled as the position seemed to open her up, and fingers filled her deep. A hand moved her hips and ass perverse, rocking her into the penetration.

Walls closed around Bella's fingers, pulsing, dripping. She plunged in fiercely, but perhaps with some amount of restraint. In the hackles of her mind, her own first time lingered unhappily. The girl was slick for her, sucking in fingers as they thrust firmly, sounding thoroughly in the library. The girl wailed as red dipped and sampled her breasts, peaks whetting the dark storm.

"B-bella…oh fuck me," Hermione begged as heat bit her softly.

A hellish laugh but the so-named obliged. Books rattled, several fell and stuck the ground, open and marring pages bent. Inside the girl, Bella crooked her fingers slightly and hastened her piston hand, thumb riddling inner lips and searing her fingerprints upon the swollen clit.

'_Yes…you'll always know where I've been. I'm eternally imprinted…'_

Hermione tore between emotions. Wanting those fingers to spear, bayonet her depths, and hating them all the same. The treacherous woman guilted her consciousness blissfully.

Small fingers bruised Bella; they dug their pertinacious pleasure into her shoulders, flying her curls like dark birds. Her mouth bit the innocent…rendering a nipple into mountainous terrain. She nipped down cleavage, tongue teasing a delicate torso...a golden plain. Her eyes were ink and enjoyed the novel wonder in unfocused amber.

"Don't rush me. I'll _fuck_ you as I please, after all, you did curse me with your innocence…a thing so pure. And now I'll just have to fuck you contaminated." A third finger added, a pounding thrust accompanied the rebuke…as did a frenzied yell from the girl.

Bellatrix enjoyed thievery, and enjoyed stealing this. This would not be a sweet and tender coupling. It would be hell, and perfect. Her path painted down, Hermione's leg had no choice but to unwind from her waist and meet the floor. It didn't matter. Faded colors were her mind as fingers burnt hunger, feeding, fueling a starvation she didn't know existed. Her breath held, as liquid ink eyed her from below and the attached mouth penned harsh calligraphy down her body. Expecting the path to write a new line, and rise again, Hermione moaned as her forbidden lover smeared raw the intent, hands hiking up a skirt…tongue tracing a pelvic bone. From anyone else on their knees, it would be deferential, but Bella retained dominion. The controlling mouth governed, forcing weakness and trembling acquiescence.

"Lift." Bellatrix commanded darkly.

Hermione draped her leg over Bella's shoulder, her conscience wobbled inside at this intimate exposure to the blessed demon. Hot breath drew across her core, and a snagging moan fled from her. Her hands tangled in the black nesting curls below, unsure whether to pull Bella to her, or keep the witch at bay. But Bella clearly intended to dock in harbor.

It was a dual juxtaposition; the hand pumped firmly, almost harshly, and yet the mouth softly began…achingly. A kiss placed, where her thighs ended. Soft nibbles on outer flesh, traveling licks. And then...a tongue exploring inner folds, suckling her labia, which continuously sheathed the thrusting hand. The delicate warmth moved toward swollen flesh, the place Hermione ached most. A flick across her hooded clit. She jumped, nearly loosing her balance at the precious sensation. But a steady hand kept her afloat as she moaned. Warming tingles sent through her lower half, as if Butterbeer had been consumed by her nether lips.

If Hermione was astounded by Bellatrix's gentleness, there was no conscious thought available, only trembles against the dark mouth. Only Bella. The small licks began to circle, surrounding her. As a talented tongue tendered amongst her secrets, it rasped over her raw clit, prompting the hood to retract. Piercing sensation licked beautifully and she felt her muscles clench at the stroking fingers within. She moaned Bella's name, brokenly as Bella repeated this over…over. A rather pleased and short chuckle hummed against her pussy, and Bella suddenly abandoned strict softness and sucked at the bud languidly. Hermione flushed but gave up restraint as her hips bucked against the face rendering her lofty and decrepit.

Bellatrix smirked, clit in mouth as the girl frantically tugged her curls, hauling her head closer, actions begging for more of the same. Evilly, Bellatrix diverged and instead sucked hard, simultaneously thrusting into slickness, firmly with three fingers.

'_Filthy witch…how utterly sweet you taste for a mudblood.'_

The girl was rather incoherent.

"Bella…Bella…Belllla, oh god…you…"

Shame was no more for Hermione, only the mouth that consumed her body into flaws and perfection. It suckled, teeth grazed...fingers banging at her hard and steady. Violent, uncontrollable shakes against evil lips. She felt weightless, a floating nothing. Fire suddenly bit her clit and she exploded in gushing sparks.

Her explosion whispered, "E-everywhere…you, Bellllla…"

Bella tongued, fucking the sea out of Hermione, tasting the ocean's salt as the witch flooded her mouth and came, screaming obscenities and turning her throat hoarse and loud. Bellatrix never released the girl as she crumpled, sliding down the bookcase (corners scratching her back raw) to the floor in a huddled heap against black curls and a blacker mouth.

Still high, Hermione watched through lidded eyes as Bella resurfaced, her mouth shimmering. The woman stalked towards her on all fours, and brazenly straddled the girl still shaking on the floor. Entranced, Hermione found her face, and sucked at a wet jaw, making her way to laughing lips that glossed, sparkling juice in the moonlight. It was fast, inhuman, how Bella suddenly gripped her wrist and dove them both underneath her skirt, full and black. Hermione had no time to blush at the woman's gall to invade Hogwarts…knicker-less. Hermione gasped at the wet silk beneath her forced fingers.

Bella had_ felt_ when the girl came. It was a rare thing, when feelings accompanied her actions. She didn't care to linger there, and instead she shallowly amused at the girl's tip-toeing hand, and didn't release her grip. She leaned in, touching their foreheads, her lips still painted wet and skimming over the gasping mouth. She stole it for a moment, enjoying young shivers as Hermione licked at herself there. She rasped,

"Let's see how talented those hands are outside the classroom, shall we?"

It was Hermione that moaned as the dark witch guided her forcefully inside. The young witch rather thought that she was tempting a hellish volcano. Bellatrix panted slightly as she increased the pace. Wide-eyed, Hermione was helpless to deny the possessed woman around her fingers, who was the anti-passive, and rode the invasion heartily, her hips undulating. Unlike her own desperate sounds before, Hermione marveled at the breathy and controlled quiet of Bella's voice. She transfixed on the bouncing breasts still half-encased by a sultry bodice. Bellatrix noticed and tugged disheveled brown waves to her chest. Hands nailed at the girl's neck as the hot filled Bellatrix's core; the smallest breath moaned.

Hermione trembled as a pert nipple grazed her lip. But Bellatrix prompted her close, though albeit, gently. A curious tongue swept out.

Bella groaned quietly as innocence flicked at her blackened soul; she gripped the girl's wrist tighter and impaled herself thoroughly, rolling in dark waves.

Hermione carefully swirled around, licking lightly before pulling the nipple into her mouth…sucking enthusiastically. Hands wrapped firmly in her hair, cradling her head. Bellatrix's ride never ceased, and the young witch moaned as velvety walls clenched about her fingers.

"Look at you…filthy witch. Won't Potter be delighted to know that Granger fucked his worst nightmare...and enjoyed it."

Nipple in mouth, hand buried in the witch's cunt, Hermione felt the rage of anger gather from her belly. She bit down, meaning to hurt. Bellatrix arched into the pain, cackling in breath.

"Yes…give me that fury." Bellatrix pulled her hair painfully, forcing Hermione to cry out around her breast.

Unwilling to be outdone, Hermione's thumb found an erect clit and circled harshly. Bellatrix moaned and finally removed her grip. The hand rose to Hermione's face, caressed fleetingly…and then slapped hard without warning. Disgusted as it happened, Hermione moaned, still thrusting.

"Interesting…"

Bellatrix's breath hitched as the girl surprised at her own wretched moan; she thrust her body hard, matching furious strokes. Her pale hand traced a jumping pulse at the girl's throat, before overtaking with her mouth, biting down and enjoying the girl's condemned whimper. She mapped down perky breasts, back down under pleats and wasted no time before stroking a hard clit.

Hermione loathed just how much she thrilled at the touch. But her hips rolled against the hated hand, whimpering things. Their breath tangled for a quick moment before Bellatrix cupped her waves and brought them together crashing and smashing. The only indication of Bella's rise was an uncharacteristic whimper into Hermione's mouth. The odd vulnerability touched the young witch and gently she sucked at the woman's bottom lip, cupping her face. Her other hand madly taking the older witch for her entire worth. It was unexpected then as muscles clamped hard around her hand, vice-like, and Bellatrix yelled her release into Hermione's mouth.

Bellatrix allowed her head to fall against the girl's shoulder as the last shudder ran her through, beautiful knives cutting. Legs wrapped around Hermione's waist and their bare torsos trembled together as Bellatrix's hand intertwined with long brown tendrils and kissed her neck softly. It was almost…sweet. Hermione withdrew from the slick heat and without thought, tasted the witch, finding her to be musky…mysterious. Bella's hand stroked still and brought a now familiar heat back to Hermione's clit. But this time it was solicitation, molten touch teasing her into fits of feeling. Against the woman, Hermione marveled at the perfect curves…perfect angles. Bellatrix Lestrange was a beauty, fierce and proud…and currently rendering Hermione's body helpless and flaming. Teeth nipped at her neck and she gasped at the edge come into view.

Then whispered against her neck,

"Come for me."

No question of the command. She did and pinnacled…scorching herself against the woman's touch. Full lips found her, and kissed like water, throughout the burning flames. Hermione met her there as a match.

Black eyes glinted as Hermione without prompt brought her hand to their sharing mouths. In what might have been regret, Bellatrix broke, cupped the girl's face, and kissed her breathless. A lingering last lip. And then billowing skirts whipped as she untangled and stood, lacing her corset to a close.

"Where are y-…"

"When I see you next, remember…it won't be in a library where lines crisscross. I'll be furiously disappointed if I kill you, if you go down, without a fight."

Hermione scrambled to stand, caught still sticky fingers, and opened her mouth to speak. A covering hand, rendered her silent. Bella pulled her forward, lips devouring her neck

She murmured, "But don't you worry, you'll not die at the hands of another…and when you do, fret not Muddy-mine. After all…it's only death, only a little death."

And then she was gone, eaten by the dark, leaving Hermione…wishing for battle.

* * *

**Author's Note II:** R & R. This piece is rather special to me; it was beautifully challenging. Reviews are love.

(Credits: Better Than Ezra – _Desperately Wanting_, Eagles – _Witchy Woman_, Halestorm – _I Get Off_, Matchbox Twenty - _Downfall_)


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